


for me love's like the wind

by thimble



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Character Study, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 13:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thimble/pseuds/thimble
Summary: 'Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko' is bled out from your veins; in its place they inject 'young master' to keep your heart pumping. Remember, they had said. If you live, you live for him (never yourself.)You tested it on your tongue, the touch of your lips and the click of your teeth.You think your mouth was made for this.





	for me love's like the wind

it wasn't always a foreign thing, though the memory to you is like sunlight to a stone laid at the bottom of a well—something warm on your face that escaped definition, though it has gone unfelt for years. like the stone, there is a reason you have been deprived of it. the stone has a purpose, a place in the world that cannot be changed or undone. it had no use for something as trivial as sunlight.

here is a truth about stones no one has bothered to write down: if it were a sentient thing, it will still wish to feel the the breaking of dawn. it's a folly that comes only with having a will of its own.

  


* * *

 

the effort to erase it from your catalog of expressions came early. you weren't beaten across the hand for showing signs of it. instead, they put a shinai on your palm, closed your fingers over the hilt, and told you to never let go.

this is who you are, they had said, this is what you were raised for. tools weren't in the business of questioning their calling.

and so the word worked itself into your vocabulary, a fixture like a grave marker. here lies what you could have been.

 

* * *

 

there would have been no trouble with any of this, had you no basis for it. but you did (you do), and here's the catch: why you want to is the reason why you shouldn't.

'kuzuryuu fuyuhiko' is bled out from your veins; in its place they inject 'young master' to keep your heart pumping. remember, they had said. if you live, you live for him (never yourself.)

you tested it on your tongue, the touch of your lips and the click of your teeth.

you think your mouth was made for this.

 

* * *

 

you learned discipline in the adherence of your spine to the basic forms of sword training, even when sensei wasn't watching. you learned respect in the incline of your head when a member of the household walks by, eye contact a luxury you aren't afforded. you learned duty in the shape of the young master's back, memorizing the course of his shoulders like a stroke of calligraphy.

watch this, it seemed to say. watch this and nothing else.

you learned violence at the same time the young master learned honor; he cannot tarnish the family name, and you cannot disobey an order.

you learned loyalty the first time you leapt in to take a hit meant for him. the pain was excruciating. the pain was preferable to seeing him suffer it.

(it would be the first of many.)

 

* * *

 

the invitation from hope's peak is a surprise. the news that the young master received a similar letter wasn't. greatness has always been a line on his palm awaiting fulfillment.

it's a line on yours that you follow him.

so maybe it was never supposed to be a surprise at all.

 

* * *

 

when you arrive at the gates of the academy, he gives what he intends to be his last command.

“our relationship up ‘til now never happened, got it? from now on, you’re just a regular school girl.”

it steals the oxygen from your lungs. how are you to pretend you don't know why you exist? how are you to forget everything you've shared over the years? how are you to think you aren't his?

how are you supposed to breathe?

(like this: a deep breath, with closed eyes and a prolonged inhale. when you open your eyes again, you exhale, "as you wish."

you tell yourself, tools can be used and discarded as their owner sees fit.

 

* * *

 

“i'm willing to sacrifice as many lives as necessary to save my own.”

he doesn't mean it; he thinks he does. you know better.

it's in the way he offered you a cat for petting, however harshly it snarled and clawed at the sight of your frown. it's in the way his fingers curled into fists at his sides before you dealt a killing blow. it's in the way his voice, under the gravel and the grit, retains a kindness disguised as self-preservation.

briefly, your gaze snags on his from across the room, pulled to each other like twin magnets too accustomed to meeting.

you aren't the first to look away.

 

* * *

 

students die, both innocent and not. that is the nature of the game. the rules stated it in the very beginning, and despite its cruelty, you accept it as truth.

the young master plays it better than most. this is how he discovers the young mistress's murder before the rest manage to. this is how he knocks on your door with a plan to carry out. this is how he wields revenge like you wield your sword.

twisted as it might be, you have been waiting for a moment just like this. you relearn your function, and the world returns to its axis. against his wishes, you commit his sin for him.

"run away when you’re done! forget about me! forget about the kuzuryuu family!"

the confession never makes it out of your mouth:

you don't know how.

 

* * *

 

they retrace your steps soon enough. you hurry along the conclusion with your little charade with the abandon of your monotone.

"that's why i fight! i fight for justice!"

you might have laughed had the sound not been torn out of your throat long ago. from across the room, your gaze snags on the young master's, and this time his lingers. more than that, it turns hot and angry.

"i told you to stop!"

it's too late. the die is cast, and you win your gamble.

at least, that is how it should've gone.

 

* * *

 

it wasn't always a foreign thing, and it is now, of all times, that it chooses to resurface. your cheeks ache with the unfamiliar strain, and when your lips turn up at the corners, it's gentle, like you have never been allowed.

"i never thought you could do it as easily as you claimed you could."

you knew better, yet you tried to save him anyway.

it's a folly that comes only with having a will of your own.  



End file.
